


The Old Tazzle-Razzle

by Pendles_is_friendles



Series: Alls the Thralls [8]
Category: Battleborn (Video Game)
Genre: Fire Dancing, First Meetings, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, minor injury (but not lasting), watching videos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-10-13 20:20:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17494676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pendles_is_friendles/pseuds/Pendles_is_friendles
Summary: Kept out past prime napping hours on a planet known for its jungles, outbacks, and gigantic cracks, Rictus can't go home until one of Vocatia's suppliers finishes putting the order together.  Taking a seat not too far away, he spots someone playing with fire.  How curious...





	The Old Tazzle-Razzle

Like most excursions across the great many landscapes of the Solus system, Rictus found himself burning his ass on the starbaked rock and counting down from ten. Not only was he stuck out during a blistering evening in the Ekkuni Outback, he was also asked to wait while the native dwarves assembled their cases of wines. Long chin cradled in his even longer hand and his hooves dangling over the edge of the rocky outcropping, a low growl rolled through his jagged fangs and lifted lip at the waste of his precious time.

These were prime sleeping hours, after all.

His eye caught a flash of light in a small clearing in the meadow down below. The small, orange orb flitted about in odd circles like a drunk firefly. He watched it dance until it hit an angle to slow and dropped to reveal the silhouette the figure holding the ropes. “Huh…” Rictus leaned forward in a vain attempt to get a better look. “Why’s that guy playin’ wit’ fire?”

Minding his crests, Rictus slithered his tentacles out of his skin to push himself off of his perch into the gravel below. His dainty hooves crunched the rocky ground as he stumbled onto his stomach from the hard landing. Unhurt, he patted the dust off of his shorts and apron, taking note that the Thrallmother’s credits had not slipped out. Feeling the weight of them in his pocket, he sunk his tentacles back into his skin and waited until they rearranged themselves back into his swirl of stripes across his form.

All set, he crept towards the dancing orange light to get a better vantage point to watch whatever the person was doing. His hearts pounded as he squinted his eyes to block the glow that they had lost years ago. Who knew how this person would react to him; Rictus meant no harm in his curiosity. Skulking at the edge of the clearing, chills ran down his spine, rattling his long plates against themselves.

The fire dancer laughed and shouted to no one as he swung the rope connected to the ball of flames. Rictus could not pick out the specific words, but he could not help but smile as the messy haired and blue-skinned figure performed. Figuring that he was far enough away and hidden in the darkness, he sat down on an adequate boulder to watch the mesmerizing show.

As his eyes followed the twirling ball, Rictus wondered why this person seemed to perform for no one… until he caught the silhouette of a camera and stand between them. So, this was for a movie of sorts? Squinting, he thought he recognized the camera’s model; if he were right, it was not suitable for the constantly changing light levels of the dance. Getting up, he crept closer to the performer to confirm his suspicions.

He just had to be quiet, so quiet. The darkness would cover him.

Just as he lifted his claw, orange light washed over Rictus. He scrambled back just as the ball of flame continued its arc to slam into the back of the entertainer’s calf.

Yowling, the entertainer dropped the rope to slap out the lick of fire sticking to his pants leg. Without thought, as soon as Rictus caught sight of the flames spreading onto the white sleeve of the dancer's shirt, several void tentacles snapped out to smother the fire in their grasp. When he realized that he had revealed his void-touched nature to a total stranger, he recoiled them back and held up his hands in defense. “Sorry, I was just…”

Though, one might think he was raising his claws to attack; really, there was not much he could do to make himself seem less frightening.

“Hey! That was pretty cool bro!” The being said as he held up his leg to inspect it for injuries. He stuck a trimmed claw through the fresh scorched holes in his black pants and chuckled, his three golden eyes shining. With the other hand, splotches of the skin darkened in a strange pattern, he gave a thumbs-up and flashed a too white grin. “I didn’t even get burned this time, sweet!”

The thrall just stared. His body slowly relaxed as he processed what just happened. Did… he not realize that the tentacles were like the varelsi's? “Wait…” he started, the arcane reverberation ever-present in his voice clashing with the up-beat tones of the others. “You're not mad I scared ya?”

“Of course not." He shook his head, his hands settling onto his hips. The light of those yellow eyes shifted as he rolled them in a nonchalant shrug. "Why would I be? I can’t ever be mad at a fan.”

A fan? Rictus was not an air cooling device the last he checked. Was there another meaning? “What’s a fan?”

The being’s smile shrank a little as his hands lifted to fiddle with his thin black tie. His eyebrows lifted, crinkling the skin along the growths on his forehead. Rictus's heart skipped; this stranger was cute. “Uh, someone that watches my videos on Clonetube of course…”

“What’s Clonetube…” Rictus tore his gaze away from the other, his cheeks feeling warm his ignorance. The service and his tendency to keep to himself did not lend itself to teaching him about such things.

More tie loosening from the other, his nails digging into the frayed fabric. “It’s the site where I post my videos…”

“Videos like that, yeah?” He gestured at the camera and the smoldering ball sitting on the stony ground. 

The person nodded.

“How would I get to this clone-what'sit?” Rictus wondered if the being would catch that he was smiling. All those long fangs and missing tendons made his facial expressions hard to read. Even worse, the echo in his voice though his jaws turned his words into a hard to parse slur. He spoke slow and deliberate so the other could hopefully understand. “You were doin’ somethin’ neat. Maybe I could be a fan.”

“Oh yeah! Let me show you!” That white smile spread across the other's face again; he even hopped up as he turned his back on Rictus. It took him a short moment to dig through what looked like a neat pile of shiny black clone armor before he pulled out a datapad and handed it to Rictus.

Clone… RDC armor… that voice… was this guy one of those Mike clones? Rictus took a quick scan of the darkness around them for this one’s squad. The training back in the service said that they usually traveled in packs, right? The once Imperium gunner suddenly wished he had paid more attention to his drill sergeant back then.

Unafraid of the sharp rake of the thrall's hands, the clone shoved his datapad into Rictus's light blue palms. The screen sprang to life at a command of a touch of a claw. Rictus took great care not to scratch the glass as he noted the small vibration from his taps.

“All right, first you got to get onto the holonet…”

Rictus just stared at the screen looking at the pictures for something fitting the description. What did a holonet look like? He realized that there was writing under each of the small pictures, but he had no idea what any of them said. “Which one is that?” He held out the device as he tapped the screen.

“Oh… uh, here hand it to me, I’ll show you.“ The clone took the datapad out of his hands and made a point to navigate the programs slow so the thrall could watch. “First you click the FireMike icon… then this bar…”

Rictus listened and followed along quietly, committing the shapes of the letters and the pictures to memory. The clone leaned against him, the warmth of his shirt sent shivers across Rictus' stripes. A faint smell of gun powder mixed with the smoke of the fire; it stung at Rictus' thin nostrils something pleasant. It took a gentle bump of the side of his horn against the other to realize that he had not stopped his explanation. Blinking, Rictus sat up a little straighter as the other explained, “now, to watch me, just look for TZ93-2341 and…”

“Issat your name? TZ93-blah?”

Another bright grin split the clone’s face. “Yeah! But most just stick to TZ, or Tango Zulu, or sometimes just Zulu.”

“Oh, uh… me name’s Rictus.” There was a rumble in his chest and a soft squeak to his breath, similar to a house cat’s purr. The warmth still clung to his cheeks, but he knew the embarrassment had passed.

He must be getting sick from exposure or something. That must be it.

“Nice to meet you,” TZ chimed as he showed the front page of his channel. He pointed to the simple thumbnails with bright colors and large letters as he handed the pad back to him. “These icons are the videos. If you click one, it’ll start the next one after it’s done.”

“Ooh nice. Which one should I…?” Rictus started as he ambled to find a comfortable place to sit. The dwarves made him wait, they could wait too. This was a better use of his time.

TZ took the spot next to Rictus, leaning against him to show him where to click and to watch his own work. He giggled and pointed out behind-the-scenes tidbits as they came up. Rictus would point out safer ways of doing the same stunts and what he thought would work for angles. As the rocks absorbed the chill of the bleak night air, the two snuggled closer and hunched over to continue their binge.

Solus peeked over the horizon long before the exhausted thrall made it off planet. In good spirits, he held his previously unused comms device close to his apron covered chest as he let his body fall onto his beloved futon. He could not believe that TZ had given him a way so they could still talk, using his "number," but not his serial number. Thankfully, it was at the touch of a button, so it could not be lost or forgotten.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a part of a collection of fics circling a handful of OCs of mine. Most were previously posted on Tumblr, but are being edited, reworked and reposted here for your reading pleasure. There's a lot more where this came from.


End file.
